


Chasing History

by MissClaraOswinOswald



Series: Sherlolly Appreciation Week 2016 [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Sherlolly - Freeform, Sherlolly Appreciation Week, sherlollyweek2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-25 13:08:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6196264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissClaraOswinOswald/pseuds/MissClaraOswinOswald
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlolly Appreciation Week: Day 3. Non-canon theme: Undercover cases. Molly and Sherlock go undercover on a case that forces them to live together and to have a fake marriage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chasing History

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Sherlolly Appreciation Week Day 3! Today's theme (for non- canon) is undercover cases. Sherlock and Molly go undercover for a case, which requires them to fake date as well. If you like what you read, please comment or leave kudos!

"As I have told you earlier, Mycroft, I am not available for undercover missions anymore!"Molly Hooper said, making an Y-incision in the chest of the body in front of her. Mycroft Holmes stood on the other side of the slab, looking very out of place with his posh suit and umbrella.

"Molly, no one else can put up with Sherlock for an entire two weeks,"

"I won't do it," She said, looking at him with a blank face. "Sherlock has hurt me enough. Can you imagine how it is going to work out when we have to live together for two weeks in a small space?"

"Molly, you get the biggest apartment available."

"If I do this, Mycroft, you owe me."

Mycroft sighed. ''I know, Molly."

"You're lucky I am the Head of Pathology and can take two weeks off to do "research"," She answered and opened the chest of the body. "Ah, that doesn't look good."

"What do you want?" Mycroft answered.

"I'd like to move out of my flat, but I haven't found a new place yet. Maybe you can take care of that?" She said with a small smile.

Mycroft sighed. "I shall look what I can do. We pick you up tomorrow morning at 09:00, here at Barts. We provide your clothes. Take only what you really need."

"The usual thus," Molly answered. "I would appreciate it if you would leave now, Myc. You're looking rather pale. I don't think you can handle seeing the vital organs."  
Mycroft looked like he was about to faint.

"Thank you, Molly," He answered and left.

* * *

Molly was at Barts the next day, 10 minutes early. Mycroft had sent her on countless of these missions, only never together with Sherlock. Her suitcase was small, only the necessities. Mycroft always provided her with the right clothes for the situation.

This morning, it was a big limousine that picked her up. "Nice, Myc. You know how to impress a girl." She mumbled and got in. She wasn't alone.

"Molly?" Sherlock said surprised. "What are you doing here?"

Molly grinned. 'I am your partner in crime of the next 14 days, Sherlock."

He was speechless. "Why?"

"I am Mycroft's favorite agent," she answered with a smile.

"I didn't know," Sherlock said. "How didn't I know?"

"It's the best-kept secret." Molly smiled. "Alright, he sent me the files last night. We have to pretend we are a married couple, I am your second wife, working as a pediatrician. You are a businessman, gambler, and drug dealer. We're incredibly wealthy, we have houses all over the world and friends in all places. We are going to Amsterdam."

"Amsterdam?" Sherlock repeated. "But if we do gambling, shouldn't we go to Vegas or something?"

"No, we're trying to dismantle a British drug network in the Netherlands," Molly answered.

"I don't speak Dutch," Sherlock answered.

"Well, lucky for you, I do."

* * *

Sherlock had no idea why Mycroft had sent him on this case. It was something he could have easily handled himself with Molly's help. He got them a house at the Herengracht, one of Amsterdam's most famous canals.

"We can have guests over," Molly said. "This is one of the most expensive houses in Amsterdam, it definitely fits our image. Although I'm not sure about the furniture."

"It's all rather a bit over-the-top, isn't it?" Sherlock said. 'Mycroft likes it,'

"Mycroft likes it," she replied, like that would solve everything.

The phone rang.

"Hello?" Molly said.

"Have you arrived safely?" Mycroft asked.

"Yes, we have. And what an amazing house you got us. I love it, except for the antique furniture."

"Sherlock hates it, doesn't he?" Mycroft asked.

"Yep, he does," Sherlock answered.

"You are going to attend a ball tonight, at a famous hotel in Amsterdam. Your names are William and Eleanor Greenberg."

"You have exceeded my expectations, Myc. It's better than the last fake name you made up for me."Molly answered. "You literally called me "Jane Austen"."

"Prepare yourself. You need a poker face tonight. Those people can read you better than Sherlock. Mingle a bit, talk to the other couples there. This night is all about introductions. You are a new face here, they are going to find you very interesting. Molly, you need to win the trust of Freddie Coeman. He is the big player in all of this, and we need to prove that he is the right man. You still know how to do that, right?"

"Yes," Molly answered. "I will get that proof."

"Sherlock needs to earn the trust of his mistress, Sophia Ravenna. I trust your Italian is as good as you promised me?"

"It is," Sherlock answered.

"You two need to figure out who is part of this network and what they are planning," Mycroft said. "Good luck." He hung up.

"Okay." Sherlock said. "I need to seduce her?"

Molly smiled. "You need to get her so drunk that she takes you to her apartment and falls asleep. Go through her stuff. There are files on everybody in the cupboards in the bedroom."

"Can you show me those?" Sherlock asked.

"Yeah. I haven't been here before, but Myc told me."

They climbed up the stairs to the huge bedroom. "How many bedrooms do we have?" Sherlock asked.

"One, I believe," Molly answered and blushed. "Erm, I can sleep on the couch if you prefer that."

Sherlock chuckled. "I believe that's the man's place, Molly. But we're adults. It's not like we haven't shared a bed before."

"That was only once or twice, and at my place," Molly answered. "This bed is quite big… Okay. Fine. We share the bed."

* * *

Mycroft had not only provided them with the most expensive house in Amsterdam but also a very posh car. "I have never driven a Porsche before," Sherlock said. "Mycroft let me never get close to his Porsche since I am a reckless driver."

"Ah, it's quite easy. You get used to it," Molly answered. "I'll drive it, for the time being."

"For how long have you been doing this work for Mycroft?" He asked.

"Ehm, for the past ten years or so. It does get harder when you're getting involved more."

"I didn't know that," He said, feeling a bit guilty. 'Why you, Molly Hooper?"

"Mycroft picked me because I look very innocent. No one ever suspects sweet and insecure Molly Hooper."

* * *

Sherlock wasn't prepared for the ball at all. He wore a nice suit and Molly a daring glittery evening dress with diamond jewels and sky-high heels. They looked like they fit in perfectly, it was just that he was not good at this kind of social events. He deduced everyone's life story; and instead of just blurting out the things he deduced, he had to use it against them.

"That is Freddie Coeman, the girl with the dark brown hair next to him is Sophia Ravenna," Molly whispered in Sherlock's ear. "Let's go introduce ourselves."

Sherlock was surprised by Molly's confidence, the way she held up this Eleanor persona. She was an amazing actress and she was a whole different person when she slipped back into Eleanor's part. "Hello, I am Eleanor Greenberg. This is my husband, William." She said smoothly and shook Freddie's hand.

In his fifties, widower, 2 children. Alcohol habit. Temper.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Greenberg," Freddie said. "This is my girlfriend Sophia."

Sophia was beautiful and at least 20 years younger than Freddie. Sherlock kissed Sophia's hand. "Hello, Ms. Sophia." He said smoothly. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

They discussed their private lives and jobs. Freddie couldn't keep his eyes off Molly, which made Sherlock very, very jealous.

"I am looking for a business partner," Sherlock said. "Lord Jacobs recommended you."

"He did? In what exactly are you doing business?" Freddie said.

"I'm the CEO of a business that makes parts for mobile phones and virtual reality glasses." Sherlock gave him a fake business card. "Maybe you have heard of it."

Mycroft had set up the whole firm, even stocks. "Oh, yes. Indeed. I shall look at it, I think it is a very interesting offer."

Sherlock smiled. "Thank you. You can always call me. Are you staying in Amsterdam?"

"For the next couple of weeks, yes," Sophia said. "We absolutely adore it here."

"We should have you two over for tea then!" Molly said. "We live at the Herengracht."

"A beautiful place for a beautiful woman." Freddie said, winking. Molly blushed, Sherlock wrapped his arms protective around her waist. "It was very nice to meet you, Mr. Coeman." Sherlock said. "It is, unfortunately, time for us to return home. We have to get up very early tomorrow morning for a breakfast with the Prime Minister."

"We shall see each other again soon." Freddie promised and kissed Molly's hand. "Goodbye."

* * *

"What was that all about?' Molly asked when they got into the car. "We were doing an amazing job! Why did you decide to leave?"

"Did you see how he looked at you? Like you were his prey."

"Sherlock, I have to get the files Mycroft demanded." She answered. "You don't need to be that protective of me. I can handle myself."

"That man wanted you as his new mistress," He said.

Molly looked at him straight. "What are you trying to imply, Sherlock? That you are jealous?"

"No… no…" Sherlock mumbled. "I'm just worried."

Molly smiled. "I appreciate that, you know. It means that you care."

"I don't care about people," He mumbled. "Alone is what protects me."

"You're wrong, Sherlock." She answered. "I can tell you that but you are never going to listen. You have to see for yourself."

* * *

"Erm, do you want to go and use the bathroom first?"Molly asked.

"There are two bathrooms," Sherlock answered, not looking up from his book. "I suggest you use the one next to the bedroom."

"Okay."Molly said. She went upstairs and picked out her nightwear. A satin pair of pants and a matching top. Not too- revealing but still a bit sexy. The bathroom door was locked. She sank through her knees and cried. She did not know why exactly, just that she was angry with Sherlock - no, she hated him- but she was madly and deeply in love with him. She thought it was over. She had moved on, she even had dated some guys. Why did she still hold her breath every moment he came close to him, why did he take her breath away when he touched her? Why did her body react to his the way it did?  
When had she fallen in love with him again?  
No, perhaps, she had never fallen out of love. Perhaps she had just pushed these feelings away so she could move on. How would she survive the next two weeks when they had to appear together, kiss or hug in public and share a bed? Why had Mycroft chosen her to assist Sherlock?

She covered herself with the covers and waited for Sherlock to come to bed. He wore an old t-shirt that showed off his extreme muscular arms and blue pants. 'Sleep well, Molly.' He said.

'Goodnight, Sherlock.'

Molly could never sleep well, so she did a lot of thinking at night.

'Sherlock,' She whispered. 'Do pigeons have feelings?'

Sherlock opened one eye. 'It's 3 AM, Molly. Why are you thinking about that at 3 AM?'

Molly shrugged. 'Don't you ever wonder why we are on earth? What our purpose is and that we are so insignificant? I am just one human. We're on this planet with billions. Why am I important? What is my significance in this world?'

'Molly, you are the one that matters the most to me. The one who has always mattered the most.' Sherlock replied. 'Don't say you're insignificant.'

Molly smiled and grabbed his hand under the covers. 'Thank you, Sherlock. But you haven't answered my question. Do you think pigeons have feelings?'

Sherlock rolled over so he could face her. 'Why are you thinking about that?'

'Because I was thinking of feelings and emotions. I was almost a psychiatrist, you know. I am still intrigued by human emotions. I was wondering about those, and then I thought about Toby and his love for me and…'

'Molly, you're rambling.' Sherlock said. 'To be honest, I think animals have feelings too.'

'You do?' She said surprised.

'Yes. I always thought Redbeard liked me when I was a kid. An animal doesn't care if you're an outsider, it just loves you unconditionally. They can be happy, angry and mourn for each other as well. '

'That is really sweet, Sherlock.' Molly whispered. She moved closer to him and let her head rest on his chest. 'I have always known you have a soft side as well.'

Sherlock put his arm around her shoulder. 'Do you think so?'

'Yes.' She answered and closed her eyes.

* * *

They easily worked out a routine that worked for the two of them. Sherlock got up ten minutes earlier than Molly, so he could make the two of them breakfast. Molly came downstairs after her shower and Sherlock learned quickly that he couldn't talk to her before she had finished her coffee.

'Morning.' Molly mumbled the tenth day of their stay. Her long hair hung loose and she wore a black skirt, t-shirt and leather jacket with a pair of heels.

"Who are you going to visit today?" Sherlock asked.

"Freddie, again,"Molly answered. 'I need to look fashionable. He bought me this jacket yesterday. Do you like it?"

You look gorgeous in it. "It's okay, but I prefer your normal clothes," Sherlock answered. Molly smiled.

"Thank you, Sherlock." She pulled him into a hug.

Sherlock gave in. "I made you coffee," He whispered.

"I like this," Molly answered. "It feels like home."

Sherlock smiled. "Your scrambled eggs are ready."

"Lovely," She answered, still in his arms. "I'm just not ready to let go yet."

"Molly," Sherlock said softly.

She let go. "I am sorry, I didn't mean to invade your privacy."

He shook his head. "Molly, don't say things like that when you don't know the full story. I like this as well. It feels so warm and welcome. It feels like home."

She smiled. "Oh, so you feel so as well?"

"Yes," He said. "I am very jealous of that Freddie you're spending so much time with."

"Don't." She whispered and pulled him into a kiss. He hungrily kissed her back, his hands on her back. He undid her of her jacket, she pulled his t-shirt over his head.

"Bedroom." He whispered in her ear. She just nodded. They barely made it clothed to the bedroom. Molly ran her hands hungrily down his body, pulling down his PJ pants and boxers.

"Gosh, I'm happy you're still in your pajama 's," Molly whispered.

Sherlock chuckled and took her to their bed.

* * *

"I love you." He whispered into her ear when they were finished. They were both sweaty, but Molly knew she had never felt this amazing in her entire life.

"I love you too, Sherlock." She whispered and snogged him.

"William Sherlock Scott Holmes! What are you doing?" Mycroft stood next to their bed, looking very cross.

Molly chuckled. "Good morning, Myc." She covered herself a little more with the bedsheets. "What are you looking at?"

Mycroft was speechless. "You had to have a pretend- marriage, not a real romance!"

"I think it's a little late for that now," Sherlock said. "The files you are looking for are in the cupboard in the living room. If you wait a few seconds outside, I will come with you."

Mycroft shook his head and headed outside.

"Oh my gosh," Molly said. "Did you see his face?"

"It is going to haunt him," Sherlock answered while grabbing his bathrobe. "Do you want to come with me downstairs?"

"Yeah, I think he will appreciate that." Molly chuckled. "You go first."

"I think so." Sherlock smiled. A smile that warmed Molly's heart. "You know where you can find my dress shirts."

"I do." She smiled. He closed the door behind him. Molly grabbed a pair of panties and his purple dress shirt – her favorite.

She chuckled, thinking of this bizarre situation. She wanted this for so long, and now she got it. Mycroft sat downstairs on the couch, with a cuppa and a pile of papers.

"What did you find out about Freddie Coeman?" Mycroft asked.

"Male, aged 58, 6 ft.1, 165 pounds, in good physical health, husband of the late Elisabeth Coeman- Dallas, lover of Sophia Ravenna, CEO of Coeman Enterprises, according to his bank accounts, he has more than €500.000.000,-. He is also the head of the Order of Caesar, a criminal organization."

"You two did a good job. Even photographs. When did I give permission to place microphones in their suites?"

"You didn't," Molly answered. "I gave myself permission."

Mycroft sighed and went through the files again. "I have enough to arrest them and roll up his network. Thank you for getting me all those names."

"You are welcome, big brother," Sherlock said. "When are you going to arrest them?"

"As soon as possible."

"They are here tonight, for dinner.' Molly said. 'Freddie wanted to see me for lunch today and Sophia really wanted to come over for dinner."

"I will take care of security," Mycroft said. "I will have camera's installed, there will be firearms, too."

"I like it," Molly said. "If you two excuse me, I'm going to dress up."

"Good luck." Sherlock said and kissed her quickly on her mouth.

* * *

"Her, Sherlock?" Mycroft asked cryptically.

"Why not?"

"She's Molly Hooper."

"She's more intelligent than you are, you know," Sherlock answered.

"Yes? But why now? Why did you decide to sleep with her now? This is a case of national importance."

"Why do I need to justify my feelings?" Sherlock snapped.

"I am worried, Sherlock. Very worried what might happen when this goes wrong."

"It won't go wrong, Mycroft," Sherlock promised.

Mycroft looked concerned at his little brother. 'Can you promise me when something goes wrong you tell me? I do not want to lose you to drugs again."

"I promise, Mycroft."

* * *

The house was completely transformed into some kind of military base. Mycroft sat upstairs, in the attic, with a laptop and intelligence agents. Cameras and microphones were placed all over the house. They would arrest Freddie and Sophia after dinner.  
Molly had cooked some Italian dish Sherlock had never heard of. She curled her hair and decided to wear trousers instead of a skirt. Maybe she had to fight after all. This part of the operation was the most important part. The house would go into complete lock-down after Freddie and Sophia stepped inside.

Sherlock wrapped his arms around Molly's waist. "Are you ready for tonight?"

Molly turned around so she could face Sherlock. "I have done this a dozen of times, Holmes. I am more than ready."

"You're worried."

"Why wouldn't I be?" She asked.

"You are right," He mumbled and kissed her.

The bell rang, interrupting their kiss. "Showtime, baby," Molly whispered.

"A lovely house you have, Eleanor," Freddie said smiling. He kissed her on both cheeks. "I almost drove my car into the canal."

Molly smiled. "That does happen around here, indeed. Please, may I take your coats? William is in the living room with wine."

"Finally. I have longed for a drink all day long." Sophia laughed with her high- pitched voice.

Molly forced herself to smile friendly.

* * *

Sherlock was keeping his cover up better than Molly had imagined. He didn't slip once. 'What are you planning on doing with your business now, Will?' Freddie asked after a few glasses of wine.

"We're planning on dismantling a network," Sherlock answered.

"Indeed, we do," Mycroft said. Freddie stood up.

"Hello, Mycroft."

The intelligence agents came from all directions and handcuffed Sophia and Freddie.

"Freddie Coeman and Sophia Ravenna, we arrest you for running a criminal organization, selling of drugs and illegal gambling. You do not have to say anything. But, it may harm your defense if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence."

"Damn you, William," Sophia said.

Sherlock smirked. "It was a pleasure."

The agents took Freddie and Sophia outside. "You did a good job," Mycroft said to Molly.

"I know. Can I keep the house? I rather like it."

"We just found you a new apartment," Mycroft said. "This house is mine, but you may use it."

Sherlock felt empty. Everything was over now, meaning he would return to an empty Baker Street apartment without Molly. And that stung.

* * *

"Can I take the blindfold off yet?" Molly asked.

'No!' Mycroft said and opened a door. "Now you can take your blindfold off."

It wasn't the apartment she was expecting. She was standing in John's old room, completely furnished with her furniture. The walls were painted in a Caribbean blue – her favorite color and Mycroft had even hung her family pictures on the wall.

"What is this?"

"This, Molly," Mycroft said. "Is your new apartment."

"Thank you, Myc," She said gratefully. "I wasn't expecting this. Where's Sherlock?"

"Downstairs."

She ran downstairs and before Sherlock could say "Hi Molly", she had pressed her lips on his.

"I guess you like your new apartment then," He whispered in her ear.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Molly asked.

"We returned to London three days ago and you immediately went on a trip to Edinburgh for your work. I didn't have an opportunity to tell you, Molls."

She smiled big. "I am really happy."

"You two are a good match," Mycroft said. "I hope this agreement works out as well."

"I promise you, it will," Molly answered.


End file.
